Enchanted fairies or manufactured clothes horses?
Do you believe in fairies? I do.
I believe enchantment lies all around us.
My favourite fairy is the professional soul surfer, mostly men who are paid to project anti-capitalist, anti-contest personas. (The female equivalent, of course, is the sex toy surfer, paid to project availability, always photographed with hams elevated, glutes oiled, mouth parted and so forth.)
Earlier today, Chas Smith skewered the soul surfer Joel Tudor for his apparent hypocrisy over his no-booze sponsorship rule. Read there here.
Just after it was published, a surf industry man called me and told me a couple of stories about soul surfers and what he said was their overwhelming hypocrisy.
Story one: Standing on a cliff at La Jolla, in California, he watched as a pro soul surfer followed a man to the beach after a drop-in, kicked his surfboard until it snapped and then allowed his pals, who’d rushed down the steps, to pulp him.
Story two: During the Noosa Longboard Festival a very well-known hipster soul cat grabbed his leash and tried to fight him (the back story is, soul cat had dropped in four times and, on the fourth wave, nose-dived. Our surf industry man pushed the leashless board onto the rocks). On the beach, the same surfer that was at La Jolla (coincidence!), told our surf industry pal that he’d better watch his back. And, a little later, surf industry man was warned by another soul person that if he went to the party night he’d be lured into a dark corner by the La Jolla man and have his arm snapped.
Oh we laughed and laughed.
And, suddenly, I didn’t believe so much in fairies.
The Pro Soul Surfer.